7.08.2008

It's 3:27 AM...I've just awoken from a dream and I have to blog this out. It's not so much my dream but the feeling and, dare I say, purpose, that came over me when I awoke:

I want a son.

An heir to my proverbial throne.

My dream, or at least the few seconds of the end of which I remember, involved me in an apartment. Oddly enough, it was apparently my apartment, but just not the one I'm in now. I was living in one of those cool bricked interior-walled apartments. My apartment in my dream -- not to be confused with my 'dream apartment' -- is very minimal, much like my current dwelling. There's a bed, a dresser, a shiny flat-screen TV on the wall...and a crib. In my dream, I walk over to the crib and there are white and pale yellow blankets. I pull them up, exposing a sleeping baby. I pick the baby up...apparently it's mine. He's still sleeping as I rock him back and forth gently. I keep whispering to him "I love you, I'm going to take care of you" and the baby just keeps his eyes closed but is smiling, obviously in the middle of a great dream, much like the one I'm in.

I put the baby down back in the crib, whisper "I love you" and kiss it on the forehead. The baby makes a "da-da" sound and that's when I woke up.

Maybe this isn't something too abnormal for a single, almost-thirty-year-old male who wants to settle down and start a family to experience. I dunno. It was a weird dream, but I liked it.